This is the ninth poem in a series of poems that explore what the commonplace objects in a student’s life would say if they underwent an Enid Blyton-esque change overnight, and could speak.  “Didi’ calls a voice, A familiar one, Room ABC has to be cleaned; I sigh in joy – Continue Reading

This past year, I’ve been fussing almost everyday about turning 20, completely hating on the thought that I’ll be done with my teens. Now that it’s official and the celebrations are done with, I’m mourning the fact that I’m no longer a “teen”. It’s funny how in a matter of Continue Reading